Harry Potter and the Forgotten Songs
by Hollie Black
Summary: Harry heads off for his 6th year at Hogwarts, knowing that he is in for a bumpy year. How could he not be, with the prophesy hanging over his head like a cloud, wispers and nightmares, strange new students and a stranger book, and the ever present threat
1. Of Deliveries and Dreams

            Welcome readers, new and old!  Now, I'm sure that some of you are asking, "old?  But this is the first chapter, what's she going on about?"  Well, you see, this story is a revised edition of my first shot at Harry Potter fiction, Harry Potter and the Song of Deception.  It was something that I sort of stumbled through, and every time I reread it, I was immensely dissatisfied.  So, it became clear that there was only one thing to do; revamp it entirely.  And that is precisely what I am doing now.  Many things have changed from that story to this, for instance, this one will be set in 6th year, and I will try my best to keep up with plot canons set down in J.K. Rowling's OotP.  I am also going to try my best to model the "style" of this after her own writing... one key example being that this will be following Harry... _not an OC!  (Though, there will be plenty of OCs in this... some old favorites will return.  ;o)_

            But, enough of my blather... you came here to read the story, not listen to me.  

            And so, here it is, long overdue...

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Harry Potter and the Forgotten Songs

By Hollie

            The rain that had threatened all day had just begun to fall.  It splattered down on the perfectly tended lawns of the identical houses of Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.  All of the windows of all of the houses had been closed up tightly after the first drop fell; all save for one.  On the second floor of number 4, one window had been thrown open, and the pale orange lamplight illuminated the outline of a boy leaning against the window frame.  If anyone had passed by, they would have found it peculiar to see a black haired boy leaning outside as the rain steadily increased.  In this case, however, this was no normal boy.  

            Harry Potter had lived at number 4, Privet Drive with its owners, the Dursleys, ever since his parents had been murdered when he was only a year old.  His mother's sister and her husband had been less than thrilled at having him literally left on their doorstep, and Harry had existed in misery in the cupboard under the staircase.  That is, until, the summer of his eleventh birthday, when he began receiving mysterious letters the Dursleys refused to allow him to read.  Finally, a letter was delivered to him personally by a giant of a man called Hagrid.  The letter explained to him why he had always felt so out of place among the Dursleys; Harry was a wizard.             

            That September, he left Privet Drive and started his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  He made friends (and enemies) with children his own age; yet even around his own kind, he discovered that he was still very different.  Harry found out that the very same night his parents had been killed, their murderer had turned his wand on Harry.  But the death-curse that Lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark wizard, had cast upon the infant Harry had rebounded upon him, tearing him from his body and leaving Harry with only a lightning bolt shaped scar upon his forehead.  

            That year, Harry had come face to face with the Dark Lord, and managed to foil his plot to return to bodily form.  Since, they had encountered each other three more times, and the final meeting Harry had only escaped because Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts school and the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared, had shown up in the nick of time.  But that so-called "victory" had come at a great cost, for Harry had lost the closest thing he'd ever had to a father, his godfather Sirius Black.  

            But that was not a memory Harry liked to relive.  He ran his fingers through his unruly black hair, emerald green eyes staring out into the gathering dark.  His owl, Hedwig, was due to return any minute, hopefully with letters from his best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.  

            Sighing, Harry retreated back into his room, shaking the water from his hair.  Not bothering to change into a dry shirt, he collapsed back onto his bed.  He had just about given up waiting for his owl, when suddenly he spotted a faint white spot against the blackening sky.  Flying swiftly through his window, Hedwig swooped overhead, dropped him several parcels then landed gracefully on her perch, shaking the wet from her feathers.  

            Excitedly, Harry tore off the thick envelope of the first letter and pulled out the slightly damp paper inside.  He recognized Hermione's neat writing immediately.

      _Dear Harry,_

_            So sorry for not responding to your last letter sooner, but things have been very... hectic, here.  I hope that your summer is going well, and that things aren't too awful with your aunt and uncle.  Everyone misses you terribly, and Mrs. Weasely has been working like a fiend to try and get you to stay with us.  I don't know how much headway she's made, but I hope it's a lot.  Like I said, we all miss you._

_            I'd love to tell you more about what's been happening here, but as you know, we still have to be careful about what we write in letters.  It will be so great to see you again, so that we can talk freely.  Don't get me wrong, because you know that you and Ron are my dearest friends, but he is simply driving me crazy.  I truly thought that when he was made prefect, he'd buckle down, but that just doesn't seem to be the case.  All he wants to do is talk about flying and Quidditch and that manner of thing.  I'm looking forward to when he can discuss them with you, instead of me._

            _I hope that you got our letters on time, we weren't sure if Hedwig would make it back to you on your birthday.  I don't know what it's like where you are, but we've been having dreadful weather today.  Hopefully Hedwig didn't get too wet.  _

            Harry looked over at his owl, who had finished preening herself and was drinking happily from her bowl.

            _I'm sorry that I didn't send your present, but it was too big for just Hedwig to carry, and there were no other owls available.  I'll get it to you as soon as I can, I promise.  _

_            Happy Birthday Harry, I really hope that we see you soon._

_                                                                                    Love from,_

                                                                                    Hermione

            Harry smiled and put Hermione's letter aside, opening the second envelope.  This one was written in Ron's untidy hand.

      _Harry,_

_            Hey mate, happy birthday!  'Mione and I meant to write you sooner, but things have been busier here than you'd believe.  Mum has been trying to get you to stay with us, but I dunno if that'll happen.  Hope so.  It just ain't the same without you around.  'Mione keeps going at me to get started on homework and stuff, she's been hammering all this stuff about how "now that we're prefects we have to keep on top of things" and all that.  Honestly, she's driving me ruddy crazy.  _

            Harry laughed, picturing Ron and Hermione inadvertently annoying one another all summer long.  It was a very amusing sight, thought he wished he could be there; he missed his friends and the wizarding world.  

_            Other than that, not much has happened.  Well, it might've, but you know, no one tells us anything.  Fred and George say they've been working on a new version of the ol' extendable ears, that can get through most charms and spells that would prevent hearing, but I think they've hit a snag on the development.  Other than that though, I think the joke shop's doing real well; I'm betting that soon it'll be bigger than Zonko's!  _

_            Well, I hope your summer hasn't been too bad with those rotten muggles of yours.  I know that you don't get to keep up Quidditch and stuff while your there, so I found you a little something that might make your summers a bit more interesting.  (Well, it's actually a gift from me, Ginny, Fred and George, we all chipped in.)_

_            Hope we see you soon!  Bye-_

                                                                        **Ron**

            Curious, Harry looked around at the two parcels Hedwig had brought him.  One turned out to be a rather delicious cake from Mrs. Weasley, complete with a birthday card that sang shrilly whenever he opened it.  The second one was a small, square and flat package Harry assumed was the girt Ron had mentioned.  

            He unwrapped the tough brown paper, finding several more birthday cards in between that and another layer of wrapping paper, this multi colored with pictures of large balloons flying around while miniature wizards and witched popped them with their wands.  He watched them, fascinated, for a few moments before carefully removing the paper.  When he saw the gift inside, he gasped.

            In his lap there sat something that vaguely resembled the screen of a small television.  It was about the length of his forearm, and half that for the width.  On one side was a group of buttons and knobs and on the other side was a large dial.  Harry stared at it curiously, wondering exactly what it was, until he noticed yet another scrap of parchment, folded up with the wrapping paper.

            Harry-

      It's a Matchascope, it'll let you watch Quidditch games at home.  It's not the newest brand on the market, but it works real well.  You use the buttons on the right to find different matches and such, and to zoom in and out during games, and the big dial on the left is to focus.  It's kind of like those omniocculars we got at the World Cup in 4th year.  Have fun mate, we hope you like it.

                                                                        **Ron                  Ginny**

                                                            Fred           George

          Harry couldn't remember a time when he'd been quite so touched.  It was clear that it had been an expensive gift, and Harry knew that the Weasleys didn't have money to spare.  He set the Matchasope down gently on his mattress, vowing to try it out later, and took a look at the other cards.  There was one from Fred and George, that squirted him with something that tasted like butterbeer when he opened it, and a clearly homemade card from Ginny, with the usual message of happy birthday and hope to see you soon.  He was pleased (and slightly embarrassed), by the obvious care and time she had put into the card.  

            Once he had finished opening and reading everything, he set his birthday cards and letters on the table (making sure that Fred and George's was securely closed) and ate a slice of the rather delicious cake, before carefully wrapping that up and storing it under the loose floorboard.  Finally, he turned to his Matchascope, itching to have a go.

            But before he could, he saw out of the corner of his eye, something else swoop into his room.  He groped for his wand, belatedly remembering it was on top of the desk, all the way across the room.  The summoning spell was on the tip of his tongue when he turned and saw... an owl, staring up at him with wide brown eyes, clutching a thick envelope that had the clear, familiar Hogwarts seal upon it.  

            Harry laughed uneasily at his own nerves.  Ever since... Well, lately, he'd been unusually jumpy.  He didn't even want to try and figure out when it had started, because he knew that it would eventually lead back to...

            The owl hooted impatiently, sticking out a leg.  Harry leapt over to the dresser on which the bird perched, hastily untying the heavy envelope from the annoyed tawny.  As soon as he had unfastened the burden, and given him a drink from Hedwig's bowl (which she was none too pleased about), the owl flew back off into the night.

            Harry opened the envelope, and found inside two pieces of parchment.  The first was the traditional Hogwart's letter, detailing the time and place (September the first, King's Cross, Platform 9 ¾) on which he should be dropped off for school.  The second piece of parchment was his school supplies.

SIXTH-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6_ by Miranda Goshawk

_One Thousand More Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore

_Magical Drafts and Potions, Grade 6_ by Arsenius Jigger

_From Ahylinda to Zybringer: Complex Charms_ by Marius L. Shaydon

            Harry looked through the rest of the list, searching for the required defense against the dark arts book.  To his dismay, he saw none, nothing to hint at the character of their new teacher.  He did, however, find interesting the title at the very end of his list, handwriting vastly different from the rest of the letter:

            _Aurors__: A Firsthand Account by E. Vance_

            Harry thought on that one for a moment; Vance... the name sounded familiar.  He couldn't place where he heard it before though, and after a moment, gave up trying.  He yawned, and wondered when he could go and get his new supplies.  He should probably go soon, sometime next week or so, he thought dimly, as the yawning increased.  He leaned back against the covers for a moment, just to rest his eyes, and found himself inadvertently drifting off to sleep, dreams filled with mysterious DADA teachers and a book that kept flying round his head... 

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            Ta-da!  That's it, the first installment of who knows how many more of my revised HP fic!  See, already I think this is so much better than my first attempt (which began very crappily, I assure you).  I am hard at work with my revisions, so I will warn you that the beginning, at least, is going to take me a while to do.  I have so much to fix to make this fit in with the new canon (even though there are some details from, say, the 5th book that I _realllllllly didn't like.... but I'm working with and around some of those new impediments.... ah, you'll see, eventually.) so this will take me time.  Plus, I have school work to do... and believe me, that eats up most of my so-called "free-time."  _

            Anyways, to both new and old readers, I hope you enjoyed!  There are so many changes, that this story should hold surprises for both sets of readers!  

Always,

~Hollie


	2. Aris

You all thought I'd disappeared forever, didn't you? Hehe, won't be rid of me quite _that_ easily. Sorry this update has taken forever... I literally have very little time for writing... technically, I'm not even supposed to be doing this now... and the time I do have has been mostly devoted to works of original fiction. I've completed my first novel (yes, I finished something! Those of you that know me are probably falling out of your chairs ;o), and commenced work on a second, as well as started writing a third related piece. But that's getting a tad off track.

Anyways, part of the delay has been time (lack thereof, rather), and the other part has been that I'm still planning out this story. Once I get Harry back to school, I pretty much know where I'm going, but until then, I'm kind of flying blindfolded. At this point, at least. I'm hoping to be hit with some brilliant surge of inspiration in this chapter... we'll see, I guess.

Enough of my talk... the chapter!

Harry Potter and the Forgotten Songs

By Hollie Black

    When Harry awoke from a rather fitful night's sleep, he felt very strange, and there was a ringing in his ears. The latter problem, he quickly discovered, was caused by Uncle Vernon, screaming from the downstairs that Harry "better bloody well be awake by now." The former, however, required some investigation.

    Ignoring his uncle's screams –as he so often did nowadays- Harry eased himself into a sitting position. Beneath his left leg, he discovered a square reminiscent of a small, flattened television. Still dumb with sleep, it took him a moment to remember that this was a Matchascope, his birthday present from Ron, Ginny, Fred and George. Smiling, he began to twiddle with some of the brass knobs and buttons. To his delight, he discovered that if he turned the dials to just the right setting, he could, indeed, watch Quidditch matches!

    He was just getting immersed in a match between the Wittenburg Warblers and the Middleshire Muskrats, when he heard the clamor downstairs increase, Aunt Petunia wailing along with her husband's bellows. Sighing, Harry put the Matchascope away and dragged himself out of bed.

_    What do they want now?_ he thought grumpily as he slowly exchanged his night clothes for a freshly laundered t-shirt and a pair of muggle jeans. When he was younger and more naïve, he might have thought that they were calling him for a special birthday breakfast, the kind his overweight cousin Dudley always received. Maybe even a present or two. By now, however, Harry knew there wasn't a chance that the Dursleys would be celebrating anything that involved him, even a milestone like his sixteenth birthday. Normal teenagers would be receiving licenses, but Harry was never what one would consider a normal teenage boy.

    Licenses, however, got him thinking; was their anything special that happened on a wizard's sixteenth birthday? Harry made a mental note to ask Ron when he next spoke with his red-headed friend. He hoped it was soon; the summer had so far been long and lonely, with only his thoughts to keep him company, and none of those were what you'd call joyous.

    The Dursley's, too, provided a sort of "company," but Harry quite honestly would have preferred to spend the summer with a host of man-eating unicorns. They couldn't be any worse than his uncle, aunt and cousin, by Harry's reckoning.

    Particularly at this moment. Harry emerged downstairs to see that his uncle had reached a particularly unflattering shade of puce that clashed horribly with his bulging pinstripe suit. A younger Harry would have been petrified by Vernon Dursely's shouting and coloration, but after coming face to face with the most evil wizards alive more times than he cared to count... Well, Harry was much harder to cow now.

    Harry watched with minor curiosity as he leaned casually against the living room door frame. As his uncle hollered, his aunt Petunia could be found screeching and wailing as she stood atop the coffee table. Harry's bright green eyes scanned the room, searching...

    He found what he sought quickly. There, in the corner (rather, obscuring the corner and the walls for some extent on both sides) huddled his cousin Dudley, who was trying in vain to make himself as small as possible. Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing outright, and as it was he hardly managed to smother his chuckles. His attempts at withholding his laughter were pressed even further when he spotted the object of Dudley and Petunia's fear, and Vernon's rage.

    A little green snake, no more than two feet in length, slithered around on the living room floor, hissing softly but causing no threat to anyone. Harry felt bad watching the little thing twist its way about; no living thing should have to endure the Dursleys.

    "Diddykins!" Petunia shrieked as the little snake turned its head to stare at her great blob of a son, in what she interpreted as a threatening manner.

    "Vernon, _do something!_ Save my Duddy!"

    Harry had watched the proceedings with increasing glee up until that point. But when Uncle Vernon came charging in with a broom in hand, intent clear upon his face, Harry knew it was time to intervene.

    Uncle Vernon swung the broom up high over his head, and not a moment too soon did Harry yell, "Look out!" at the little snake. It managed to slither out of the way only an instant before the broom came down right where it had been. Vernon growled his displeasure, as Dudley raced (or rather, waddled very quickly) to his mother, leaping up to the coffee table where she waited with open arms...

    Which turned out being a very unfortunate thing. The poor coffee table had been able to handle Petunia's meager weight, but Harry didn't think that there was a table alive that could support his cousin's bulk. It shattered quite completely, sending Petunia and her son crashing to the ground atop all the debris. This gave the little green snake ample time to sneak past the now distracted Vernon and his broom, and the creature slithered right up to Harry.

_    Thank you!_ it told him with deep feeling.

    "No problem," Harry replied. "Here, want me to set you outside?"

_    I would prreferr, brrotherr, that I could converrse with you._

    Harry was confused, but intrigued. He nodded his assent, and offered his hand to the little creature. It slithered onto his palm, curling up neatly, and Harry, with one last glance at the mess that was once a prim living room, turned and retreated to the relative normalcy of his room.

    Once inside, Harry set the snake down upon his desk. Hedwig, inside her cage, surveyed the newcomer with a gleaming amber eye.

    "Not for eating," Harry told her firmly as he guessed her intentions. She blinked lazily and ruffled her feathers, shifting her back to them as if to say, "I don't care."

    Chuckling slightly, Harry turned his attention back to the lithe creature resting atop his desk.

_    It iss a grreat pleasssure to meet you, scalesssss-ssib,_ the snake said. _I have looked forrwarrd to thiss forr sssometime._

    "You have?" Harry asked in surprise. "What... how... who are you?"

_    Apologiesss... I forrrget my mannerrrsss. My name isss Arrrisss._

    "Aris?" Harry clarified. The serpent nodded his triangular head twice. "And, why have you wanted to meet me, Aris?" Harry felt rather wary; snakes were all too often associated with the Dark Arts.

_    You are famed among my people; the Human-Who-Isss-Sssnake. Therrre have been ssstoriesss of you for yearrrs, but I wanted to sssee you for myssself._ Aris looked up at him with slit-pupiled eyes. _My orrrderrr both admirrresss and ressspectsss you, two-legged one._

    Harry cocked his head. "Your order?" he questioned.

    Harry could have sworn that the corners of the snake's mouth curved into a wry smile for an instant.

_    Yesss,_ Aris said in a smooth voice. _I know humansss think that we snakesss arrre interrresssted only in biting them, asss your... friendsss... did..._

    Harry could practically taste Aris's sardonic amusement as he continued.

_    But therrre arrre only a few sectsss who desirrre the tassste of human flesssh. Of courssse, they give the ressst of usss a bad name. Essspecially among wizzzardsss. _

    "So... not all snakes associate with... y'know, dark magic and all," Harry asked.

_    Of courssse not! _Aris said with reprimand clear in his words. _Jussst asss the action of one wizzzard doesss not define the ressst of your ilk, ssso doesss the actionsss of one ssserpent, orrr one orrrderrr, not define the behaviorrr of all otherrrsss. _

    Harry nodded; that was logical enough. He decided that he liked this little fellow before him, for all that his species reminded Harry forcibly of his greatest foe.

    Aris's yellow eyes bored into Harry's green one measuringly.

_    It isss good to meet you at lassst, Harrry Potter. _

    Harry thought for a moment, then smiled and said honestly, "It's good to meet you too, Aris."

    The remainder of Harry's summer passed in relative peace. Harry spent much of his time simply avoiding his relatives, who were still bemoaning the loss of their coffee table. Aunt Petunia whined over the ruined "family heirloom," which amused Harry, who remembered times when she'd complained about wanting to get rid of the "cheap piece of junk" her mother "cursed her with." Uncle Vernon was furious that the little snake had escaped him, and accused Harry every chance he got of using his "you-know-what!" to help the creature.

    Dudley seemed to be the only Dursley who was actually profiting from the experience. He regaled his chums with stories of how he'd single-handedly fought off the huge anaconda that had snuck into his home and ravaged the living room and tried to eat him, before Dudley had bravely chased him out. Harry, with Aris concealed in his shirt pocket, had listened in on one such telling, and both had enjoyed a good laugh over Dudley's version of events.

_    Thessse humansss you live with arrre mossst interresssting,_ Aris commented thoughtfully one day, tiny head peaking out of Harry's shirt pocket, his favored hiding place.

    "I suppose that's one word you could use," Harry agreed, chortling.

_    Ssso, you arrre to ssstarrrt yourrr ssschooling again sssoon, no? _Aris inquired.

    "Yeah, on the first of September," Harry replied absently. "Which is..." he glanced at his calendar, then took a second look. "Wow, that's next week! Summer sure did fly by."

_    Time isss wont to do sssuch a thing,_ the serpent replied.

    Harry ran his fingers through already disheveled black locks. "I still haven't gotten my school supplies," he said, furrowing his brow. "I'd better go soon. Tomorrow, I suppose. Only question is; how to get there?"

    He couldn't fly to Diagon Alley, nor could he get the Weasley's to take him. Harry had to laugh at the thought of asking his aunt and uncle to drive him there. Then, as he toyed with his wand, the answer came to him. Harry smacked himself in the head for not seeing it before.

    "Thanks, Ern, Stan," Harry called as he stepped off the Knight Bus and onto the curb right in front of the Leaky Cauldron pub.

    "Any time!" the pimple-faced Stan called back with a wave as the doors to the triple-decker bus snapped shut. Harry watched as the huge purple vehicle spluttered and banged, then leapt away from the curb and whizzed out into traffic. Harry could only assume that there was some magic protecting the bus from muggle eyes, and none of them paid any attention to it.

_    Thisss isss wherrre you purrrchassse yourrr sssuppliesss?_

    Harry grinned widely as he looked at the decrepit building. "Sort of," he replied as they entered. He nodded a greeting to Tom, the toothless proprietor of the pub, and made his way to the familiar brick wall in the back courtyard.

_    Interrresssting, _Aris commented as he watched Harry tap on the bricks and the entrance to Diagon Alley revealed itself. _Mossst interrresssting._

    "You like that word, don't you?" Harry laughed as the snake peered around in obvious wonder and pleasure as they entered the bustling shopping center.

_    Well, therrre isss a grrreat deal that interrresstsss me,_ Aris replied diplomatically.

    "Indeed," Harry replied. "You're as curious as any cat I've ever met."

    Aris inhaled in a sharp hiss. _I would rrrequessst that you not comparrre me to thossse furred rrruffiansss. _

    "Sorry," Harry whispered. He had to keep his voice low now, because he'd learned the hard way how wizards responded to the use of Parseltongue.

    "Don't like cats much then, eh?"

_    Let'sss jussst sssay I have neverrr encounterrred one I have favorrred. What in the name of Fang iss_ that

    Harry glanced in the direction that the serpent's yellowed eyes were staring.

    "Aaah..." Harry searched for an explanation. "I _think_ it's supposed to be a hat... I hope that's supposed to be a hat..." Harry quickened his steps, hoping to avoid the wizard who was sporting a pile of furs, rags and jingling bells atop his head. He also wore a strange set of robes, bright green ones with yellow sequins.

_    Humansss and their clothesss,_ Aris muttered, shaking his triangular head. _Sssnakesss arrre morrre sssensssible; we don't botherrr with sssuch sssilly thingsss. _

    Harry bit back a laugh. "Most humans wear normal clothes. Besides, they keep us warm, and... covered."

_    Sssilly,_ Aris repeated stoutly.

    "There are humans who would agree with you," Harry said with a smile, thinking of certain roommates he had back at Hogwarts.

    As if on cue, a familiar chorus of voices reached Harry's ear, and he spun around, smile wide on his lips.

    Okay, so not my best work, I know. I'm sorry, this is more one of those filler chapters. Its main purpose was introducing Aris. Heh, who I love, by the by. New characters are always fun.

    Now, I must extend my deepest thanks (and apologies!) to those of you that read chapter one. I'm sorry for not including individual replies, but I'm afraid that if I try to write up those, it'll take me too long and I won't be able to post today. And I've made you all wait so long... heh, so yes.

    Anyways, heartfelt gratitude to the following reviewers (and friends):

The Molecular Lady

Sharp

NikNak

Dragonette

Angel the Devil's Daughter

Nepal

Big Imagination

Delf-the-Pirate

Tru Lys

SilverElf

Pineapples are better pink

Sarai-IceElf

FawkesnFlame and Moony

T.H.W

Quiet One

    I missed you all ... big hugs to everyone! Thank you for having such patience with me. -

Always,

Hollie Black

_"If you made a better rat than a human, that's not much to boast about."   
_-Sirius Black


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